


Strike Back: Done And Dusted - Where To, From Here

by Rogue_Writer



Category: Strike Back
Genre: M/M, Michael Stonebridge/Damien Scott - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 14:22:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5294525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rogue_Writer/pseuds/Rogue_Writer





	Strike Back: Done And Dusted - Where To, From Here

Bullets sprayed while grenades exploded but minutes later there was a deathly silence. Damien’s gut was bleeding again but he dragged himself to his feet, a desperate need to find his partner, to see with his own eyes that Michael was still alive. The thought that it could be otherwise was unacceptable. Damien staggered through the rubble of what was left of the barn, his gaze momentarily falling upon the body of the redneck American, who had tried to bribe them into a ceasefire. Michael’s two shots had killed Faber instantly and as far as Damien was concerned, one more piece of shit had been removed from the planet.

 

Rounding the car he saw Michael laying on the ground beside it, his eyes opened. Damien exhaled with control, not allowing his partner to see the absolute relief that consumed him. Michael had become an imperative in Damien’s life and the idea that Michael would not or could not be in his life, was something that Damien could not abide.

 

Michael’s eyes glanced toward the sudden and unexpected appearance of Damien and his immediate expression showed he could not believe they had come out of this one alive. Michael was holding his hand, the hand that had been stabbed clean through, the temporary bandage failing to halt the flow of blood. Damien saw the distinct emotion cross Michael’s face. It was absolute relief that Damien was alive but most importantly, it revealed just how important he was to Michael.

 

***

 

Damien Scott lay on a bed asleep. He was alone and almost naked, except for his briefs. He was recovering from the injuries he had incurred less than a week before. It had been a seemingly impossible, no win situation but yet again, Scott and Stonebridge had overcome insurmountable odds, apparently for the final time. Damien was patched up and was going to be fine but everything had changed – for good.

 

Damien was in the middle of a dream, not that he realized it. Considering he was having the same dream over and over again and that the dream was a real event that had happened years before, perhaps his consciousness should have caught on. Once again however, the repeating events in the jungle in Caquetá, Colombia, on the night before he and Stonebridge had made contact with D.E.A agent, Kim Martinez; rolled through his mind like a movie on repeat.

 

They had been airdropped late afternoon but with heavily armed Colombians moving through the jungle, Damien and Michael had to lay low for a while. The afternoon came to an end all too quickly and before they knew it, night had fallen and a full moon was shining, causing rays of bluish-white light to sever the canopy from above. The men were still well concealed from the Colombian’s beneath the heavy underbrush but the moonlight made them clearly visible to each other. With the combination of high humidity and a soft, rising mist, there was an intense energy within the dangerous solitude of their surrounds. Damien was on high alert, his gaze unbroken as he watched cautiously through the leaves and scrub. Michael on the other hand was distracted and in a way, he could not have cared less about the dangers or the Colombians, as he stood behind Damien while thoughtfully gazing at him.

 

“I hope Martinez sticks around, Mike. At this rate we’re not going to make contact until morning,” Damien said.

 

“Better safe than dead,” Michael replied, however, Martinez was the last thing on his mind. “I’m okay with us staying hidden until daybreak and being able to see the Columbian’s when they point their guns at us.”

 

“Can’t argue that, Mikey. You think we’ll be okay here for the next few hours?”

 

“I think this cave of heavy scrub is perfect, Mate. No one would ever know we were here and I like that idea,” Michael replied, his eyes staring at the back of Damien’s head.

 

“Copy that,” Damien replied.

 

“As usual, you and I are the only mugs who would be out here in this sort of situation, so I think we should make the best of what’s on offer,” Michael said, an unnoticed ambiguous quality to his tone of voice.

 

“If there’s no movement in the next few minutes, we should get some sleep before we set off again,” Damien said and then stepped to a new position to peer through the heavy foliage.

 

Michael was still standing just over a meter behind Damien but he said nothing in reply. He just kept staring at his partner, his eyes moving up and down, taking in every inch of his body; a physique and stance he now knew so incredibly well. Unexpectedly, he put his gun down and silently he stepped toward him. Damien had no idea what Michael was doing until he felt the man’s hands on his waist.

 

Damien froze to the spot at first. Under the circumstances, he questioned what the fuck Michael was doing. When he felt Michael’s body coming into contact with his own, when he felt Michael’s chest against his back and his crotch against his ass, Damien’s concern began to lessen. When Michael started rubbing his bone-hard cock against the curve of his ass, he knew exactly what Michael was thinking and what Michael wanted again.

 

Ever since the first time something had happened between them, which occurred barely two months following the murder of Kerry, Michael had begun to do this sort of thing on random occasions, sometimes not seeming to care if it got them killed. The problem was that it was so damned hot when it happened, Damien could not resist submitting to the hungry lust. Now, only seconds after the initial contact, Damien felt his own heart beating faster and then his own cock transforming into a heavy rod of tensile steel.

 

Michael’s hand slid from Damien’s waist and around to his stomach. Without pause the hand turned, his fingers pointing down and then suddenly, he slid his hand into position and was gripping Damien’s erection through his pants.

 

“Your cock is so fat,” Michael whispered into Damien’s ear and then his fingers crushed the solid meat until Damien groaned. Michael’s body pushed closer and tighter and then Damien felt the hot breath on the back and side of his neck.

 

Damien felt his body suddenly begin to relax, following the initial tension. When it did, Michael unhitched Damien’s pants and a moment later his hand was inside and on his cock. His fist wrapped around and squeezed the heavy meat and a split second later, Michael was jacking Damien hard. Damien made a single sound, “Uh” and then Michael’s teeth closed around Damien’s earlobe and tugged sensually, as he pulled Damien’s hard but fleshy cock. Synchronously, Michael moved his other hand around and then slid it up beneath Damien’s shirt, where he squeezed the entire, left pectoral muscle.

 

“Mikey…” Damien said but his words ended there because there was nothing more he wanted or needed to say.

 

Michael began stroking firmly with a rhythm and Damien’s cock grew exceptionally thick and hard. Michael scratched the left nipple with his fingernails and pushed his body even tighter against Damien. Pre-come was already lubricating Michael’s hand and Damien was beginning to fuck Michael’s fist.

 

It was so passionately intimate, so intensely secret and so wildly dangerous with armed men in the surrounding area. Damien knew having Michael wrapped around him and servicing his most raw and primal needs, was perfection. He wished he could tell Michael how he really felt. With that thought in mind while believing he would never say the words, Damien turned his head so he could look into Michael’s eyes. The moment their eyes made visual contact, it made what was happening even more real. Michael leaned closer and pressed his lips to Damien’s. Damien drilled his tongue into Michael’s mouth and he felt his heart begin to pound.

 

Michael’s hand squeezed hard and he pumped Damien’s cock even faster, a desperate desire to make his mate explode. Damien suddenly realized his whole body was getting hotter and hotter, almost like he was in a sauna. He was sweating profusely and his clothes were making him feel like he were soaking wet.

 

Damien gasped into Michael’s mouth, as their tongues dueled amidst their growing sexual frenzy. Damien believed Michael was doing this for himself and so he reached behind, slid his hand inside Michael’s pants and he squeezed and jerked Michael’s hard cock as well. Michael moaned into Damien’s mouth and Damien was quick to extract the thick and natural lubrication from Michael’s hardness. Minutes of mutual and excited hand love continued and soon Damien knew Michael was about to make it happen for him, finally. Damien imagined being naked with Michael, he imagined Michael coming all over his chest and then he imagined fucking Michael like there was no one else in the world.

 

Damien growled into Michael’s mouth as his come filled Michael’s hand. His body was submitting to a violent shudder, as his ejaculation reached orgasmic proportions. Their lips broke apart and there was only one thing that Damien could think to say.

 

Damien’s whole body jerked as the dream concluded and as his eyes sprang open he yelled, “Fuck me!”

 

The afternoon sun was streaming through the bedroom window and straight onto Damien’s tanned body, causing pools and rivers of sweat to form all over his flesh. The matted hair on his muscled and defined chest, as well as the landing strip of dark hair that ran down his abdomen into his bulging briefs, were both so wet it looked like he had just stepped from beneath a shower.

 

There was no problem and he was in no danger; the “Fuck me” remark was due to a combination of two things. Firstly, it was the dream and of what Michael could do to him and how he could make him feel. Secondly, it was simply a matter of his extreme discomfort, born from the high temperature of what had been his sundrenched, sleeping body.

 

Feeling both the wet and the salty stickiness of overt perspiration, he lifted his arm from the bed and with a flat hand he swept the pool of sweat from between and beneath his chest muscles. The salty water broke into beading droplets and sprayed across the room, glistening like jewels as the sun caught their reflection.

 

He lifted his head and looked down. His black briefs were soaked through, created mainly from the sweat of his large scrotum and the heat of his heavy erection. The sun’s burning heat along with the dream had given him that hard-on, making his discomfort even worse. He felt like he was being baked in an oven but at the same time, as a consequence of the sex being only a dream, he felt like he had not had sex for six months.

 

It must have been an unusual feeling, considering Damien Scott would have no idea what it would feel like to abstain from sex for longer than a couple of days.

 

The bedroom door swung open unexpectedly, just after Damien had lifted the waist seam of his briefs to give his fat cock some air. His semi-erection had fundamentally unfurled along his gut.

 

“Fuck me,” came the young and surprised voice. “Jesus, Dad,” Finn said, as he stared at Damien’s heavy cock lying on his belly.

 

After Damien had left Switzerland he returned to America where he was spending time with Finn. From that first day together again, Finn had taken to calling him Dad. Deep down Damien loved it and he had already told Finn they were going to spend some serious time together. Damien had not really expected it but he was actually looking forward to being with his son.

 

Damien pulled the seam of his underwear up over his cock and then turning it forcefully, he pushed it all back down to his crotch. A large bulge remained but Damien dismissed it and looked up at his son with his very handsome and familiar, wry smile; his teeth framed by his Cheshire grin before he said, “Sorry about that Son, although, I would’ve thought your mother would have taught you to knock?”

 

“Yeah Dad, she did but I thought you were convalescing and I didn’t expect to see my father’s… um…” he paused for a moment and then continued, “What do you call that thing anyway?”

 

Damien snorted with amusement but then wiping away the grin, stone-faced he said, “Finn, you’re not too old for me to throw you over my lap, you know?”

 

Finn said with his own wry smile, “With that thing of yours in residence, wouldn’t you have to make a reservation to make space for me?”

 

Damien had to stop himself from laughing and then he said, “Jesus, kid, where did you learn to talk like that?”

 

“My pretend Dad,” Finn said.

 

“Get me his address and he’s dead meat,” Damien joked.

 

Proudly, Finn asked with a straight face and a serious tone of voice, “Is that your way of showing me you care?”

 

“You’re going to be a handful, Finn, I just know you are,” Damien said with a roll of the eyes.

 

Finn grinned mischievously and replied, “Well from what I just saw, I am my father’s son after all.”

 

Damien’s mouth fell open and then his eyes dropped to his son’s crotch. He saw the distinct imprint, dressed from right to left. He looked back up at Finn’s face and saw the bemused grin. Damien shook his head but said nothing in response.

 

In silence, Damien felt pride in his son and he already liked him so much more than he had originally hoped he would. He had a feeling it would not be hard for him to love him like a father was meant to love his son. He had a desire to tell Finn what he was feeling but Damien was a long way from reaching the point when he could be that emotionally open with someone he really cared about. Additionally, Damien did not know if Finn even wanted that sort of closeness with a man who had never been around.

 

“Anyway, Finn, did you want something?”

 

“Yeah, I mean, no, um, not really. It’s just, well, um, I didn’t know if you were awake,” Finn said, not saying what he wanted to say.

 

“Son, come over here and take a seat and let’s get to the bottom of whatever’s on your mind,” Damien said supportively.

 

Finn walked over and sat down on the bed. He stared at Damien with a thoughtful expression but Damien saw the decision in Finn’s eyes, which said he had changed his mind.

 

“Finn, maybe this is too soon or too forward but is this about a girl? I saw the way you were checking out that nurse’s ass in the hospital after you were shot? If you’re a bit of a ladies man and you’ve gotten yourself in a predicament, maybe we could talk about it and find a solution for you,” Damien presumed.

 

Finn grimaced, followed by a look of regret, as he realized the consequences of pretending to be something he was not at all.

 

Damien saw the expression and misinterpreting he said, “Finn, Buddy, I’m sorry. I’m pushing it, aren’t I? We need to take things slowly and so I’ll leave it to you to talk to me whenever you’re ready.”

 

Finn looked at his father with uncertainty, not knowing what to say. His own actions had made what he wanted to tell him more difficult. Thinking quickly while changing what he really wanted to say, to something else entirely, he said, “No, Dad, it’s not about anything like that. I was just wondering, are you really dead? I mean, you know, are you in hiding? Are you really no longer a Special Forces soldier?”

 

“Well, we’ll know for sure when we get the final word from Michael,” Damien said honestly.

 

Finn asked, “So when will that be?”

 

“Michael should be here tomorrow afternoon and that’s when no matter what, you and I are heading to your chosen destination, Finn.”

 

Surprised, Finn asked, “Really?”

 

Damien looked at Finn curiously and said, “Well, it’s where you wanted to go, isn’t it?”

 

“Vegas? Hell yeah,” Finn replied.

 

“Then Vegas it is. I want to be here for you, Finn. Now that there’s nothing in the way of me making up for some of our lost time, well, I say, what the hell,” Damien said and gave that handsome smile again.

 

Finn’s eyes lit up and his face beamed with satisfaction but then his expression changed suddenly and he said, “Will Michael be coming with us?”

 

Damien’s eyes drifted away thoughtfully, momentarily, in regard to Finn’s question. He knew he wanted to say yes but from the way Michael had spoken the last time they saw each other, he expected the answer was more likely to be no. Damien was less than happy with that answer and he actually hated the thought but he turned back to Finn with an indifferent expression and said, “Probably not, Finn.”

 

“Oh,” Finn said with a tone of voice that sounded both surprised and disappointed.

 

Damien asked, “Why do you say it like that?”

 

“I don’t know, Dad. I’ve just had this feeling…” he trailed off and his eyes became thoughtful. “I don’t know, it’s just that the two of you are so close and such good friends and since I met you both I thought…” he trailed off again. “It doesn’t matter, though. I guess all that matters here and now is that you and I are going to get to spend some time together. I guess that’s the important thing,” Finn said.

 

Damien looked at Finn with another curious expression. He knew Finn was trying to say something to him but he had no idea what it was. Unfortunately, all this talk of Michael sent Damien’s thoughts to another place and it made him feel lost and alone. Damien really wanted to continue talking to Finn but suddenly he also wanted to be alone.

 

“Finn, I’m not trying to get rid of you but I need to get some more sleep. I feel like shit so could you open the window, close the curtain and turn on the overhead fan?”

 

“Sure Dad, no problem,” Finn replied.

 

Finn smiled, stood up and did as he was asked. He turned around and looked at his father with minor concern. He then considered the state Damien had been in when he first got back from Switzerland. He was so worried about his father but knowing how much better he was looking and sounding, Finn thought he should give Damien some more time before he started raising issues with a man who hardly knew him.

 

Damien watched proudly as Finn left the room. He thought his son was handsome, smart and a pretty cool kid. When he finally exited the room and closed the door, Damien thought, _“I did good, even if I wasn’t there when I should have been there, when I should have been a father, his father, for all those years.”_

 

Turning his head and looking distantly at a nearby wall, Damien’s thoughts returned to Michael. His chest tightened severely when he considered that after tomorrow, he might not see his mate for a very long time, if ever again. Damien’s face showed strain from the thought and he closed his eyes and tried to think of the times ahead with Finn. Momentarily it worked but less than thirty seconds later, a few words he had said to Michael years previous, came back to him not only as recall but also, with a confronting realization attached.

 

It was a memory of a long ago conversation, a serious conversation, back at the time of their first missions as partners. In the end, Damien had made a joke to ease the tension and the mood. It was following the incursion into Chechnya, when Damien tore strips off Colonel Grant for hiring a woman to fuck him while giving him a psych evaluation.

 

Damien had stormed out of the crib and was practically ready to walk away for good but Michael had come after him to stop him. The crux of this sudden memory had nothing to do with Colonel Grant or any of the deception and shit that was going down at the time. Damien may have been furious but one single line from Michael changed everything in a moment. Not wanting Damien to leave, Michael had said with such need and sincerity, “I need you back in there with me.”

 

It had been a simple thought about that simple statement, which collapsed Damien’s anger and brought a smirk to both men’s faces. A little grin grew from Damien’s lips and his eyes turned as he began to look at Michael. Michael was staring deeply and so seriously into Damien’s eyes but still Damien said, “What was that last bit?”

 

In a way, Michael wanted to say fuck you but he also knew he meant what he was saying in more ways than one. Damien did not know it, then or now, however, Michael could not bare the thought of Damien leaving.

 

Michael had looked at Damien and inhaled with resignation, feeling as if he were about to reveal a secret. He wiped his hand over his mouth, a psychological action revealing he did not want to repeat the words but still he said, “I need you back in there with me.”

 

With a single chuckle, Damien looked at Michael and said, “I complete you, don’t I?”

 

Grinning, Michael replied, “You complete me, that’s right.”

 

As Michael stared at Damien, Damien looked down thoughtfully while smiling hopefully at what he was certain contained only imagined implications.

 

Here today, all these years later, Damien felt sure that those words between them, at least on his part, had not been comical banter after all. Damien knew that back when he said it, despite that he would never have admitted it, he wanted to believe there was truth in it. Now, knowing he was in America and that he was certain Section Twenty was only a remnant of memory and that Michael had suggested he was not coming with him; Damien realized that Michael actually did complete him. Right in that moment, Damien knew he had never felt more incomplete with the knowledge Michael was not there at his side.

 

***

 

Michael turned and began to walk toward the door of the office.

 

Ridley said from behind his Whitehall desk, as he held the dog tags in his hand, “You’re not going to kill me?”

 

Michael stopped, turned and look back at a man he thought was pathetic and the lowest form of life and he said, “Of course I’m going to kill you” and then he turned and walked away.

 

It was only an hour later that Michael was in some random motel room. His first actions were to swallow down three straight scotches. He was seriously pissed off with his life and particularly his former world. He thought he should not be at all surprised by the turn of events but he was a soldier or at least he had been a soldier and now it seemed that old life was over. His own government had turned their backs on he and Damien and they had closed their eyes to the American’s coming after them. Section Twenty was now a thing of the past and it seemed, so were the infamous Scott and Stonebridge.

 

Associatively, Michael thought back over the years. He thought about that prick, Hugh Collinson and what he had done to John Porter. Seven years the poor bastard was dismissed and ignored, regardless of the fact he had done nothing wrong. However, even after John’s name was cleared and he became one of the top operatives of Section Twenty, still he managed to get killed in Iraq. Even though the truth had come out about Colonel Grant and the Pakistani Presidential candidate, Michael was still not certain that the American’s had not instigated the whole thing, all to stop Porter from revealing everything he knew.

 

Years had passed by but Michael still wanted to kick himself for being so blind. He had eventually realized he had been nothing more than a robot. If it had not been for Damien coming to Section Twenty, he never would have had the blinkers removed from his eyes. Damien had opened his eyes.

 

Michael thought about how the American’s had framed Damien and had him dishonorably discharged as a Delta Force operative, so that no one would listen to what he had to say. In the many years Damien had been his partner, he had come to realize that Damien was a very smart man. Damien had a near photographic memory, he was intuitive and his instincts were sharp. He was also highly trained and was not a man prone to whim or folly, well, except where his sense of humor and sex were concerned.

 

During their last mission, too much had become clear and not only did the American’s want Damien and Michael gone; they wanted them dead. Now the word was out that Damien Scott was dead. Michael wondered if soon they would come after him as well. He thought that for some time to come, he had to watch his back.

 

Swallowing the last scotch, just for a moment Michael thought about taking off with Damien but then he thought if someone found him, he would be leading them to Damien as well. There was no way Michael could let himself be a target on Damien’s back. In addition, now Finn, Damien’s son, was in the picture as well. Michael thought staying away was the right thing to do, even though just the thought of Damien missing from his life was killing him.

 

Michael pulled the curtain back a little and surveyed outside the motel room. He wondered if he was being paranoid and if maybe now with Damien supposedly dead and he with no job and no prospects, if the powers that be would let sleeping dogs lie. His flight to the States was in a couple of hours and he was not only concerned about whether he would get there but additionally, whether he would be followed while revealing Damien as well. He thought that maybe they should have gotten two burner phones for the final communication but he also knew he had dismissed that very thought. Secretly, he needed to see Damien again. Michael sighed as he thought that not only was this risky but also, walking away from Damien after he told him what he needed to know, well, that was going to be pure hell.

 

Michael shook his head and let go of the curtain. He walked over to the bed and sat down. He was so very tired. On top of everything that was going on and also how displaced and lost he felt, there was also something else that was constantly on his mind. For quite some time, specifically since Kerry had been murdered, Michael had been thinking thoughts and feeling feelings that for most of his life he had kept in the dark. Kate’s death and then Kerry’s death had become some sort of key that unlocked a hidden door. Not to mention the fact that his feelings for Damien had opened the door.

 

Michael lay back on the bed. He ran his hand over his huge and smooth chest, his thumb circling one of his large nipples. He lifted his other hand and slid it down beneath his form-fitting, hipster briefs and he gripped himself firmly. He stroked and closed his eyes and as he did, immediately he saw the face of Damien Scott. His heartbeat quickened, his breathing became ragged and then he saw the naked male body behind his closed eyes.

 

Michael could see the distinct tan lines and the thickset, stocky and solid, muscular build. He could see the chest and the chest hair, the protruding nipples and the strong hips that led down to that ass and that heavy cock. Michael ejaculated minutes later. The image of Damien naked in his mind could send him over the edge so quickly. To him, Damien was a fucking hot stud and those thoughts could drive him wild.

 

Michael felt a sense of guilt after the fact. Damien was his partner but more than that he was his friend. It seemed a betrayal to be masturbating and fantasizing about Damien. It was not something new because they had certainly crossed way beyond the line of fantasy in their random and never mentioned encounters. However, still Michael always felt that jacking off behind Damien’s back, with Damien as the star performer, seemed somehow wrong.

 

Being the thoughtful and analytical man he was, perhaps Michael should have realized where the conflict lay. For years they had been so tight and the ultimate support for each other. It was the type of friendship that few people ever truly got to experience with each other. Damien would give his life for Michael, just as Michael would give his life for Damien. Somehow it seemed wrong to contaminate such purity with thoughts and actions of lustful desire.

 

There were in life, many people who believed that friends should not be lovers. There was almost a type of social taboo about mixing relationships, a lightweight kind of incest, so to speak, a fucked-up attitude that sex destroys the goodness of something more. Michael did not necessarily believe that to be the case as a blanketing rule but he did fear the destruction of what Damien and he had together. Their relationship was multidimensional. It was true, it was deep, it was enigmatic and it was so damned easy to fall in love with the brotherly connection they shared. He knew he had fallen in love with that connection a long time ago, however, though he had tried hard not to admit it in any sort of conscious way, still he believed and in fact felt certain, he had fallen in love with Damien for real.

 

The problem was that up until now, as long as Damien was in his life, Michael could remain fundamentally satisfied. He could be his friend and his partner and be grateful for the closeness. Even a simple hug from his friend, which was always given as a friend, was more often than not fantasized in Michael’s mind as something more. He was certain it was not something more from Damien’s perspective but still Michael desired it to be much more.

 

Unfortunately, now Damien was leaving his life and it was killing Michael slowly but surely.

 

***

 

The next day the two motorbikes turned at the T-intersection, one to the left and the other to the right. The left turning bike carried Damien Scott but it also carried a pillion passenger, Damien’s son, Finn. The bike accelerated away fast. Damien twisted the throttle hard, his face filled with disappointment, angst and even a little anger.

 

The second and right turning bike moved relatively slowly by comparison. The rider, Michael Stonebridge, had only traversed a couple hundred meters down the road when he glanced down at his mirror. He needed to see that reflection. He needed to know that he could lay his eyes on the other rider one last time. He hated that they were riding in different directions.

 

Michael felt his gut wrench when he saw the reflection showed only a clear road. He could not see Damien because a bend in the road had removed the father and son from sight. Easing down on the throttle even more, the bike slowed beneath the speed limit.

 

 _“No, man, you can’t do this. It isn’t like there’s anything more to this than what’s playing out in your mind. It’s a fantasy of your own making, all based on irrational feelings. There’s no tangible reason for any of this. What you’re thinking can never be and it doesn’t make sense,”_ Michael thought.

 

Throttling up again, the bike lunged forward as the torque grabbed the wheels and the tires bit into the tar of the road. Another one hundred meters or so passed beneath him and then his hand eased off again, slowing the bike once more.

 

He felt the ache in his chest when he thought he might never see Damien again. He wanted to argue or rationalize the truth of the feeling in his chest and turn the throttle hard to continue away. However, he then wondered how he could argue with an ache in his chest. If that was not telling him something, than nothing was.

 

 _“But…”_ he thought and then forcibly halted his thought because he did not want to hear his own argument. Regardless, his disciplined and rational side told him he must consider all sides of a scenario.

 

 _“He’s with Finn! I can’t interfere with a father and his son. I know how much he wants to get to know Finn and spend some quality time with him. Not to mention the way Finn looks at Damien. He wants to get to know his dad. Fuck it, I can’t get in the way of that,”_ he thought.

 

Michael’s hand did not turn the throttle up or down, he let the bike cruise along, as he stared ahead and rationalized some more.

 

_“Fuck, Michael, you’re not even considering the most valid of all the points involved in this situation. Damien fucks women like the rest of us breathe air. What do you think is going to happen? Do you think you can just stroll up to him and say, ‘Damien, I don’t know why this has happened but I’ve got it bad for you and I want you to turn gay and fuck the living daylights out of me!’ Honestly Michael, do you really think Damien is going to look at you, smile and say, ‘Gee wiz, Mikey, you’ve just made my dream come true.’ Of course he’s not. Damien being Damien, he’ll probably deck you and tell you you’ve been lying to him for years?_

_“Seriously, do you honestly believe that because while alone in random dives and shit holes around the world, just because you got each other off, blew each other a couple of times or that because you let him fuck you, Damien is going to give up the multitudes of women that want him or that he wants – for you? You can’t be that delusional, Michael,”_ he thought.

 

Michael’s face showed nothing but total disappointment. He went to accelerate again but stopped himself once more. He stared ahead like he was looking into a void where absolutely nothing existed. In reality, what lay ahead of him did indeed hold nothing, at least, it seemed, nothing without Damien Scott.

 

Feeling like he was standing on the edge of a precipice and like he was precariously balanced between leaning back to safety or leaning forward into a freefall without a parachute, suddenly the ache in his chest became audible when it transformed into a deep, frustrated, male voice, screaming the single word “Fuck” at the top of his lungs.

 

All of Michael’s logic and reasoning suddenly went flying out the figurative window and he changed gears, throttled down almost completely and after a U-turn, he pumped up the throttle and took off in the other direction, a need to catch Damien like never before.

 

A decision was all it took. Probably only that particular decision but still Michael now had a smile on his face. One way or another he was going to have Damien in his life, at least for a while longer. They had been soldiers and partners for so long but above and beyond all of that they had been true friends. Now that Section Twenty was done and dusted and now that Damien was supposedly dead, there was not much of anything ahead of them, other than some made-up, new, normal lives. Whatever that meant?

 

Michael thought he was not really interested in going to Vegas but he also thought that if Vegas were where Damien would be, then that was where he was meant to be as well. He felt sort of guilty that he was about to crash the father and son party but he knew how to stay out of the way, to be covert or to be there but out of sight. As long as Damien did not get pissed off with him hanging around, then that was exactly what he was going to do.

 

Michael thought, _“This will all be okay but you do know that this experience you want with him and these feelings you want to share with him, there never going to happen! You do know that, don’t you?”_

 

As he rounded the fourth bend, there up ahead was the bike with two people and Michael’s smile brightened even more. He was coming up on them fast and the closer his bike got to Damien, the less he felt the ache in his chest.

 

 _“There, that’s better. No more ache, no more struggle and what the hell, I had nowhere else to go and nothing else to do anyway. This is good and everything is going to be good,”_ Michael thought.

 

***

 

Twisting his arm just enough so he could see his watch, Damien realized only nine minutes had ticked by since riding away from Michael. He also knew it felt like the worlds largest sinkhole was opening but right at the center of his heart. His partner, his friend and despite his son being seated behind him, also the most important person in his life was gone.

 

Damien felt guilty for prioritizing Michael over Finn but the truth was Michael was like a familiar and comfortable, favorite couch while Finn was a beautiful, brand new couch. He wanted them both but he fit with Michael and Finn would take some learning and getting used to.

 

_“I want to turn back and go after him but even if I did, what would I say? He’d look at me like I was crazy and if I told him our random encounters meant more to me, he’d tell me those encounters were all about Kate and Kerry dying and the hopeless hole he had been in. How could I tell him about John Porter and me? How could I tell him he means more to me than John did? How could I tell him all the women, except for Rebecca and Julia, were little more than fillers while waiting for what I really wanted?_

_“You have to put all of this out of your mind. Your son is sitting behind you and you know you already feel a connection growing. What are you going to say to him? Sorry Finn but your kick-ass dad likes cock and you’ll just have to cope with having a gay father?_

_He thought, “Fuck, it never rains but it pours. I’ll miss you, Mikey!”_

 

Damien sighed heavily and then he looked in his mirror. He saw Michael speeding up behind him and he inhaled deeply and then smiled with relief. He said nothing to Finn as he kept one eye on the road and one eye on the mirror. Finn squeezed his waist a little tighter for no reason and Damien smiled at that as well.

 

“How’re you doin’ back there, Son?”

 

Finn again heard the title of ‘Son’ and once again his heart swelled with pride. A couple of men over the years had called him Son but it had never meant anything to him. The men could have given him any special title and it still would have meant nothing. Now, though, every time Damien referred to him as Son, somehow it held value. He pushed a little closer to his dad and leaning toward his ear he said, “Couldn’t be any better than I am right now, Dad. I’m happy and everything is perfect.”

 

Damien felt emotional warmth from the response of his son. His boy was now a young man and though he may have missed many of the really good years, he knew there were still lots of good times that could be had. He only hoped that nothing happened that could fuck up this chance with his son.

 

Glancing back at the mirror, he saw his only true friend. An odd thought crossed his mind when he considered, “If Mikey were around, he’d be a good influence and make sure that I made all the right decisions where Finn is concerned. He’s more conservative and more rational, less spontaneous or wild. Hell, the two of us together would make great parents.”

 

Damien surprised himself with that thought but then putting it out of his mind, as he saw Michael almost on his tail, he lifted his right arm and stretched it out to the side and gave Mikey the finger.

 

Michael could not help himself and he burst into laughter. Knowing his mate would be watching him in the mirror, he returned the bird with gusto. He could tell from the roll of Damien’s head that he was laughing as well.

 

Finn turned around and looked back and a large smile crossed his face also. Michael saluted Finn and Finn gave him the thumbs up. Turning back around, Finn pressed against Damien and said, “Is Michael coming with us to Vegas?”

 

Seeing a doorway in the question, Damien asked, “Would you mind, Finn?”

 

“No Dad, of course not. He’s your - friend.”

 

Damien did not notice the brief yet poignant pause in Finn’s words. Damien’s eyes closed in relief for just a split second and then he opened them and said, “Thanks, Finn, that means a lot to me. Anyway, to answer your question, he wasn’t going to come with us but I think I can say with certainty, Mikey is going to be with you and I for some time to come.”

 

“Cool,” Finn replied sincerely.

 

Michael cruised up beside the other bike and as he equaled and held his speed to keep them parallel, he turned and looked into Damien’s eyes. Damien winked at him, smiled at him and then held out his closed fist. Michael edged the bike a little closer and then he pressed his fist to Damien’s fist.

 

Damien yelled above the roar of the engines, “Hey Mikey, are you ready for some freedom, some fun and no bullets and bombs?”

 

“I’m with you, Damien, until the end of the road,” Michael yelled back in reply.

 

Damien smiled and looked back to the road ahead. He leaned back slightly against his son, took a quick glance back at Michael and then he settled in for the road ahead, knowing he had things exactly how he wanted them to be.


End file.
